


A Moment's Respite

by Dach



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Andreth and Finrod are an Ultimate BROTP, Fluff, Gen, Sorta bittersweet, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-25 22:51:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13222896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dach/pseuds/Dach
Summary: Andreth and Finrod spend a moment away from the chaos





	A Moment's Respite

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Iston](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iston/gifts).



Finrod was silent as he slipped through the pine trees, long blond hair secured with a simple clasp so that it didn't hinder him. Each of his steps were purposeful and careful. The sun had already begun to set and so a hazy light filtered through the forest, casting shadows in the undergrowth and dappling the pine-needle littered ground with spots of red-yellow sunlight. Finrod adjusted the clasp of his dark travelling cloak absently, stepping over a fallen branch. 

A sudden whistle, though not loud, pierced the quietude.

Finrod paused. On one of the thick branches of the pine tree just ahead of him, an alert scout perched, an arrow knocked in his bow and dark eyes narrowed. With a small smile for courtesy's sake, Finrod nodded to the scout before responding with a short whistle of his own, followed by a quiet click of his tongue. The scout nodded smartly at the "password" and cast his glance back over Finrod's shoulder, as if to say 'go on'. Normally, whichever elf was on scouting duty would exchange a few words with Finrod; never more than simple pleasantries yet nevertheless bolstering after the journey from Tol Sirion. This scout didn't seem so inclined, however, and so Finrod pressed on through the forest.

Soon, as the last traces of day were filtering out, Dorthonion's fortress loomed into view, all dark gray stone and rigid angles. In front of the formidable structure spanned a stone wall at least five times as tall as Finrod himself, a single oaken door fortified in the very center. Agrod and Aegnor had designed the stronghold with little else aside from security in mind and it certainly showed. 

Without slowing, Finron approached the guards at the wall. All seven of them were dressed as if prepared for battle, their ensembles complete with gleaming silver helmets and broad chestplates. Each had a sword hitched on their left side.

"Greetings," Finrod said, calm. It was the first time he had spoken in a long while.

From the middle of the solemn group, a single guard stepped forward and inclined his head respectively. "Greetings, Lord of Nargothrond. If, for record, you would state your intent?" The guard then smiled; a practiced welcome in want of warmth. Warmth, Finrod had recently noted, was lacking for the substitution of tension. But then, besieging entities as powerful as their opponents did tend to have that effect.

"Nothing more than a friendly visit -- one for the sake of diplomacy and conversation both." Finrod smiled as genuinely as he could. "If you would be so kind as to admit me to this realm's hearth and reception, I would be most gratified. I am weary and my journey has been more prolonged than I afore anticipated."

The guard smiled a bit more sincerely at that and stepped to the side to allow Finrod passage. "May you find what you seek, Lord. Our halls await you."

"My thanks." 

Without further delay, Finrod strode forward, past the guards and through the door in the wall to the cavernous entry behind the open castle doors.

As he finally stepped inside of the stronghold, steps precise, another two guards appeared out of the shadows behind the doors and walked to his side. Unlike the fully-outfitted guards at the wall, these ones wore leather chestpeices and little else in the way of armor. Finrod wanted to groan in exasperation.

"May we escort you?" one of the guards questioned. Finrod didn't bother asking where to. He knew full well that, after arriving to Dorthonion unannounced for the fourth time, his brothers had instructed their security to intercept him and take him to themselves in the future. They never passed up the opportunity for conference. It was a fair instruction, seeing as communication between Tol Sirion and Dorthonion was hardly adequate as it stood, but it nevertheless annoyed Finrod when he came to visit for Andreth's sake.

"You may inform your lords that I shall convene with them tomorrow morning," he responded, knowing that he wouldn't meet any argument. "I have prior obligations that I must first attend to and am well enough familiar with these halls." The guards nodded-- the one on the left looked slightly disgruntled at the dismissal-- and retreated to their post at the door.

Finrod continued on his way. His brothers would probably guilt him for making them wait; however much he loved them, he could still find it within himself to think them inconveniencing at times. Still, he knew that it would be worth it. He hadn't seen Andreth in what seemed years, and the limit of her lifespan meant that he had little time with her as it was.

By the time Finrod had found his way through the winding corridors to a certain door, he knew that the sun had nearly finished setting. He knocked once. Almost immediately, the door swung open to reveal Andreth. 

Her brown eyes shot wide as she gaped openly. And then Andreth promptly threw herself forward, arms wrapping around him fiercely and startling a laugh out of him. Without any awkward hesitation, Finrod brought his hands to her back and returned the embrace with a fevor of his own. Embracing was a custom he had been first introduced to upon meeting Andreth. She had later told him that he seemed the only elf who actually enjoyed the it, and he had retaliated by saying that he was sure that she hadn't yet introduced Aegnor.

"I didn't expect you to arrive until later this night!" exclaimed Andreth. 

"I endeavor to surprise," he responded, tone light. She was visibly suppressing a grin.

"And I am ever so grateful for it." She finally released him, motioning to her room. "Come," she joked, "before one of your brothers spots you and sees fit to ambush you with talk of supplies."

He smiled indulgently and entered, undoing the clasp of his travelling cloak and hanging it next to Andreth's. "Eru forbid that."

Andreth's chambers were neither ornate, nor humble. They had the design that the rest of Dorthonion's garrison seemed to lack, with the beautiful carvings done in the sparse furniture lending to the environment's way of decoration. Though the space was small, as chambers in a garrison were wont to be, it was rather pleasant. Andreth led Finrod to a pair of chairs beside a wall-tapestry and he collapsed onto one with an exaggerated sigh. "Be wary," Andreth said as she took her own seat, lips twitching into a smile, "lest you compel me to believe that the alleged physical capability of elves is no more than myth."

"S'no myth," Finrod groaned good-naturedly. He was nowhere near as tired as he was pretending to be but was still tired enough to find worth in feigning exhaustion it. Besides, it was rather pleasant to finally relax. "But enough about my stamina." He winked at Andreth and she rolled her eyes. "What of yourself? How have you been faring?"

Andreth sighed leaning back in her chair. "Well enough, I suppose? Certainly not badly."

Finrod hummed quietly. "Then I am glad. My brothers tell me time and time again how tensions are high in this fortress and I've found myself hoping as of late that you've managed to evade them."

"For the most part, yes," Andreth nodded. "But this is taking its toll on everyone, is it not? I am lucky that I can almost forget that it's happening. I can almost forget that all our lives hang so precariously in the balance of this prolonged battle. 'Almost' is far preferable over 'cannot', dear Finrod."

"Are they not the same?" Finrod asked, sighing. 

Andreth didn't immediately answer. Then, "Perhaps." Another pause. "But enough of this. The both of us get far more than our supposed shares of hurt. Let us deserve a respite from this chaos. Let us live for a moment in an interlude."

Finrod smiled. "An interlude?"

"An escape from these happenings. An escape from this pain. An escape from this burden that too many must bear. A seam in the scenes of our life. A niche we can slip into and hide in for a moment. A moment's pause," she explained, gesturing aimlessly. "I'm sure you're familiar with the definition."

"Indeed." Finrod sighed. That did sound nice. "Hardly a realistic wish, though, isn't it?"

"But a wish nonetheless," Andreth responded, wistful. There was a moment of silence. "And perhaps," she decided out loud, "one that we can chase."

Finrod raised an eyebrow, silently requesting that she elaborate.

"We can pretend, can we not? We can create our own respite for a short while." Andreth then stood decisively and, automatically, Finrod got to his feet to join her.

"How might we do that?" he inquired. Andreth smiled and held out her hand for Finrod to take. He did so with no small measure of confusion. 

"Follow me," she responded, and then she was tugging him out of the door and back through the torch-lit stone corridors. Finrod stayed at her side with careful, measured steps, nodding in acknowledgement at every suspicious guard they passed. Soon, he grew curious.

"Where is it you lead me?" he questioned. 

Andreth grinned wolfishly, not responding. She released his hand and turned to face the wall at their left. Now that he looked, Finrod realized that metal rungs had been secured on the stone. He looked up to see a heavy wooden trapdoor directly above their heads. Andreth climbed the rungs with an agility that belayed her now graying hair, pushing up the trapdoor above her head with a quiet grunt of effort. "I presume you're following?" she called over her shoulder.

Finrod hummed in affirmation and Andreth finished her climb, disappearing from the opening above their heads. Even before Finrod had reached the top of the ladder, the chilly night air had drifted down and begun nipping at his exposed face and neck, making him realize belatedly that he'd forgotten his cloak. The final rungs were a frigid cold that stung his hands and he clambered out of the opening and onto one of the fortress' turrets with no little measure of relief, closing the door carefully behind him. With a sigh, he turned to look up at the sky.

Above him, Varda's stars shone coldly in the surrounding black, dotting the sky with pinpricks of light. The moon, a large, glowing circle, hung seemingly just above them. Finrod couldn't help but to wonder if a well-aimed arrow could reach it.

"Is this our escape?" he questioned aloud, quiet voice crisp in the silence. "Our respite?"

"Yes," Andreth said from behind him, decisive. Finrod turned to see her standing beside the closed trapdoor, head tilted up so that she could examine the sky. The moonlight washed her pale skin an unearthly white, turning her greying brown hair silver and setting her eyes glimmering. "This is our respite."

"It..." Finrod trailed off, gaze travelling over Dorthonion's night-veiled grounds, "it is certainly a pause from chaos."

Andreth hummed in agreement. "Indeed. Now come." She motioned him over. "There is a another custom of Men I believe you would enjoy. Tell me, have you ever tried stargazing?"

 

**Author's Note:**

> @iston: happy fuckin belated new year


End file.
